Cronk Sorry

After the meal, Cronk returned to his quarters, thinking he had better freshen up. That may give his mood a boost. Cronk hadn’t realized before just how much a fresh appearance eased one’s mood.

Entering his quarters, he was surprised by Camille putting fresh linens upon Cronk’s huge bed. This was a great task for anyone to undertake.

When Camille took notice of Cronk entering, her face took the look of one who had fallen from grace. “Monsieur Cronk!” she acknowledged. “I… I am sorry. I will leave and return when you depart.”

Cronk noticed the look upon Camille’s face and heard the formal address, and immediately regretted his actions with sweet Camille. She had been very faithful in serving Cronk. It was he who could not handle how close they had become.

“No,” Cronk spoke as soft as his vocal cords allowed. “Cam…Cronk sorry!”

At first, Cronk’s words didn’t register with Camille. She had grown accustomed to doing her duties at the desires of others. She had let her guard down with Cronk. He had always been so sweet, despite his fearsome size.

“Cronk know not what do,” Cronk admitted. “Cronk sorry.”

Confused by the statement, as she had thought all was well, Camille asked, “What don’t you know what to do, Cronk?”

“Not s’pose to mix folk,” Cronk answered.

Camille didn’t quite understand. She did notice Cronk’s state and the odor of the sour mash emanating from his breath and body. She sensed he was feeling quite miserable.

Camille immediately took action, as a good servant should. She unbuttoned Cronk’s shirt, saying, “You must get these soiled clothes off of you. I’ll draw a nice hot bath for you, Monsieur Cronk.”

“Cam,” Cronk insisted, “name Cronk.”

Camille hesitated. She turned and softened, allowing her defenses to recede. “Are you certain?”

“Yes!” Cronk insisted.

“Very well, Cronk,” Camille replied with a soft smile, “I will draw your bath. You need cleaned!”

A little while latter, Cronk had a towel wrapped around himself, standing in the bathroom, watching the steam rise from his tub as Camille finished drawing the water. She turned and asked, “Anything else, Cronk?”

“No,” Cronk sheepishly spoke.

“Cronk?” Camille probed. “Why were you so angry with me?”

Cronk shook his head. “Cronk no angry at Cam. Cronk angry at Cronk.”

Camille was even more confused. “Why Cronk?”

“Cronk orc,” he affirmed. “Cam human.”

Camille was relieved; she had thought the anger was more from Cronk being a guest and she being a servant. “I don’t see that as a problem, Cronk,” she replied with a smile. Do you?”

Cronk thought for a while. You could almost hear the gears and cranks turning and the steam being released. He remembered the talk Lady Boss had with him. Yet, Cronk thought if two people equally admired one another, it should be acceptable.

“No?” he answered after the pause.

“And you shouldn’t” Camille affirmed. She reached and unwrapped the towel from him. “Now, get cleaned up. I’ll finished making the bed, then return on my break from duties to read with you.”

Cronk grinned. “Cronk thank Cam!” he humbly exclaimed, climbing into the tub, as Camille made one backward glance as she exited the bathroom.